


synergy

by shepherd



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the prompt, 'Michael is a businessman and Gavin is his secretary.' It became a fic where Michael works too hard, Gavin has had enough and the nature of their relationship changes for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	synergy

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to get a sequel with office sex, but it ended up never being written.

Despite all better judgement, Michael Jones lifted his head and risked a glance at the clock across the room.

The clock had struck midnight over twenty minutes ago.

He groaned, long and loud, and thudded his head back onto the desk he despised beyond all belief. He wanted nothing more than to go home and rest his weary body- hell, he wouldn’t have minded if he could roll over and nap on the floor for twenty minutes- but he couldn’t. A towering stack of paper had dominion over him, and he was it’s slave. He glowered at it, but he was far too tired to summon his hatred and ire. He was weary and uncomfortable, and pangs of hunger assaulted his stomach. When had he last eaten? Lunch? He couldn’t recall. It might even have been breakfast. His eyes hurt from staring into the impossible brightness of his laptop, and the text of his documents had begun to swim around the screen, dancing before him, taunting him. The suit he wore was the bane of his life- a little too loose at the waist, and a little too tight at the shoulders, but there was no way in hell he could afford a new one.

God, he needed this client, but he was only human. He needed sleep. Food. He’d happily sacrifice the social life, but he couldn’t not have food and rest.

He could hear rain pattering against the window of his office, a repetitive and even sound, and it soothed him. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying his short break while he still could. He listened to the wind wailing past the tightly closed windows, glad that he wasn’t out in the elements. He let himself relax, losing himself in the sounds of nature.

There were three sharp and unanticipated knocks at his office door.

Michael jerked back up, his posture going rigid in his seat. For a moment, he panicked as he realised his vision was blurred and pure white- then the paper that had stuck to his forehead and covered his eyes fell away, and he relaxed, feeling foolish. He shoved the paper away and promptly ran a hand through his hair, a pathetic and desperate attempt at neatening his wild auburn curls. He had no idea who would be knocking at this time, but he couldn’t afford a bad impression if it was any one important. 

“Come in,” He called across the office, threading his fingers together and resting them on the desk. “It’s open.” 

The door slowly creaked open, and a familiar head peered around it. Gavin Free, his long suffering secretary offered him a bright smile. He poked his hands around the door, and revealed that he clutched a steaming mug in his hands.

“I brought you coffee.” He spoke softly, his expression creased with clear concern. That was a warning sign, really. Gavin was a loud and irritating piece of shit at times, to Michael’s eternal chagrin, but whenever he was going to breach a potentially painful topic to Michael he always used that gentle voice. He stepped into the office, crossing the border between his room and the hallway. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Michael cleared his throat, and began to reorganize his papers as his secretary entered, clutching the coffee carefully in both hands and walking slowly and steadily. He’d learnt his lesson, Michael had noticed. The carpet was a shrine to Gavin’s mistakes- the somewhat worn and ragged cerulean coloured carpeting was covered in several dark stains where Gavin had tripped on seemingly nothing and split coffee everywhere. Too shy to give it to him directly, Gavin pulled a coaster across the oak wood desk and placed it down carefully.

“Thank you, Gavin.” Michael flashed him a smile, ignoring the fact he knew damn well Gavin was going to say something he wasn’t going to like in a few short moments, and he received a tentative one in return. The business man carefully took it in both hands and took a sip, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do most- have the hardest orgasm of his life or burst into overjoyed tears. He settled for neither. Gavin made a damn fine cup of coffee. Sure, it wasn’t as good as his tea- he wondered if that was an ingrained British talent- and it wasn’t his only job, but Michael probably would have hired him just to make coffee anyway.

He was handsome, too. That helped.

Michael could appreciate a pretty face when he saw one. So sue him.

He leaned back in his seat, settling his head against the rest and sighed. He closed his eyes, and listened for the rainfall. A faint frown flickered across his features when he realised he could not longer hear it. _That was a quick shower._ His fingers sapped the warmth from the cup, but he found he didn’t care. “Thank you, Gavin.” He repeated. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

Gavin hummed out a soft, dismissive noise. Michael heard his soft footfalls pace around the office for a few long seconds, and the frown only deepened. Gavin never lingered. He was clumsy and forgetful at times, to an endearing degree, but he never dallied. Whenever he wanted to say something, he said it, and he got out of Michael’s blast range as fast as was humanly possible. Michael opened his eyes, and found that Gavin had moved around the desk, and was staring intently at him.

“Why are you still here, sir?” He asked, his tone surprisingly firm and forceful. He stood directly opposite him, his hands lightly touching the edges of his desk. Michael pulled a face at him. 

“It’s only twenty past midnight.” He said defensively. “I’ve stayed longer.”

For a split second, they stared at each other. Gavin’s expression was stuck in a seemingly permanent state of confusion, and Michael’s was much the same. They stood bewildered together for what seemed like forever, until Gavin’s mouth moved. No words came out, only meaningless noises- he excelled at those- coming forth until he managed a soft ‘huh?’. Michael only stared at him for longer, saying nothing, but giving him a look that screamed ‘what the hell are you talking about?’

“Sir, I think you’re confused.“ Gavin spoke carefully, as if talking to an elderly citizen, and Michael had a split second to be incredibly offended before his secretary gestured back to the clock on the other wall. “It’s quarter to two in the morning.” Michael narrowed his eyes at him but glanced over- and his stomach dropped like a stone when he saw that Gavin was right.

“Fuck!” He exploded, jolting and almost spilling his coffee all down himself. Still hot liquid splashed over the top, staining several papers. Gavin recoiled, taking a swift step back. Michael put his drink down, missing the coaster but not noticing. “It’s quarter to fucking two?!” He forgot about professionalism, forgot everything anyone had ever said to him about controlling his rage. “I must have fucking fallen asleep.” He could barely keep himself in check, only just resisting the urge to slam his fist down on the desk. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He couldn’t do that and not face the consequences.

Instead, he put both hands over his head and groaned for what must have been the thousandth time that night. His drink lay forgotten, the small pleasure pushed aside in favour of aggravation. _Fucking hell_ , he thought, and temporarily thought about jumping out of his office window.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner, sir.” Gavin’s voice was quiet and mournful. In response, Michael moaned uselessly again, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault, Gavin.” He reassured him. He thinks about bitterly tacking on ‘for once’ as an afterthought, but he wasn’t so cruel and petty. Besides, it would victimize the one person who would be willing to help. “I’m the one who fell asleep.” Michael runs his hand through his hair again, feeling a terrible migraine coming on, and huffs. “I just need to get a lot of stuff done. And now I have much less time to do it in.” 

He expected Gavin to either bow his head, make some lip service apology and condolence and make his escape, or drag up a seat from his own desk and help him sort through everything he needed to do. He would have understood the former, and appreciated the latter despite the fact the man probably would have ordered everything completely wrong and made his life infinitely more difficult.

Michael didn’t expect him to sigh, his tone tinged with sadness, and reach over to retake the coffee he had brought. “You don’t need this.” Gavin nodded respectfully, offering him a tight smile, and walked straight back out of the office with no further explanation. 

The stressed businessman floundered for a few long moments, trying to call after to him to demand to know what the hell just happened, but words didn’t emerge. Eventually, he pushed up from his chair and followed him. He burst out of his office, in the harsh light of Gavin’s own little office just in time to hear the telltale sound of liquid being poured down the drain from the tiny kitchen they had. Gavin promptly re-emerged without the cup, and nearly walked straight into him. 

“I…” Michael stuttered dumbly, his eyes huge. They burnt in the bright light, taking painfully long to adjust. “What was that?” 

“You’re going home.” Gavin told him, in a no nonsense tone of voice. He pushed past him, walking back into his employer’s office. Michael stood there uselessly for several long moments, stunned to silence, wondering if he were experiencing some kind of exhaustion fuelled hallucination. As if in a trance, Michael followed him like a lost puppy, stepping back into his office. He could barely appreciate the darkness, too lost in his confusion. Gavin stood at his desk, and his face was caught in the glow on his laptop. Panic sparked in his chest, travelling all the way up his throat until it burst out, snapping him back to reality.

“What are you doing?!” He demanded, and dashed across the room. He arrived just in time to see his secretary close down his documents, and click ‘shut down’ in the corner of his screen. “Gavin, what the hell?”

“I told you, you’re going home, sir.” Gavin’s words were terse and carefully clipped, and his brows were furrowed deeply. He didn’t even turn to look at him.

“Gavin.” Michael growled, the sound rumbling from the centre of his chest, and he made to snatch for Gavin’s thin wrist. Gavin spun around, and he had the nerve to grab Michael and _push him down firmly into his office seat_. He scowled down at him, clearly having had enough.

“With all due respect sir, will you shut up?” Michael did, partly out of fear over what Gavin will do to him if he didn’t, and partly out of terror that if he didn’t his words would come out as pure, unadulterated gibberish. He’d never seen Gavin like this- genuinely angry- before. He may have been snappish at times and the filter between his brain and his mouth was terrible at best, but only when he was tired or had a lot on his mind. He’d never seen Gavin quite this mad, and quite this dominant.

It was kind of hot.

Michael pushed that part of his brain down, as deep into the darkest reaches of himself as he could. That part of him always got him into trouble. And it was only sometimes worth it. He watched Gavin fuss over his desk, closing down his laptop with a sharp click and putting his pens back into the little pot he had. “Gavin,” He tried again. “I need to get this stuff done. It’s important.” He tried to reach across and undo what Gavin had done- and he reared back when Gavin slapped his hand away. 

“I don’t care.” Gavin snapped. “I’ve bloody well had enough of seeing you working yourself to exhaustion every bloody night.” He shook his head. “It’s not worth it, Michael.” He tried to think of a snappy comeback, desperately. He wracked his brain for anything, he didn’t care if it wasn’t relevant or was nonsensical. He needed something.

“That’s Mr Jones to you.” He managed uselessly, and he winced at how moronic it sounds.

Gavin’s lips grew tight as he gathered up Michael’s papers and stacked them up, surprisingly neatly for someone so infuriated.“Well then, Mr Jones.” He started. “I’ve had to tell worried friends and family who call for you that you’re too busy to chat almost every day for the past year, and I’m sick of hearing their disappointment turn into acceptance. I’m done with it, sir.”

For one dreadful moment, Michael felt horrifically sick and utterly abandoned when he thought Gavin was handing in his resignation. He sucked in a breath. In that moment, he thought of everything he stood to lose- everything he seemingly was losing. That coffee, when it wasn’t been poured down the drain or unprofessionally spilt on his carpets. The initially annoying accent that rapidly grew on him until it was a source of pleasure instead of ire. The stupid little lopsided grin Michael was offered whenever he walked into the office for the first time or walked out for the last. He thought about all of that, and his heart clenched with pain.

“Are you quitting?” His voice was low, practically a breath. The rain had started up again, except this time it offered Michael no comfort. It drummed down on the roof, lashing against the walls, almost drowning his words.

Gavin snorted, and reached underneath the desk to grab for Michael’s briefcase. “Don’t be absurd, sir.” He practically threw it on the desk, almost knocking over his pen pot and sending paper fluttering to the ground. “I’m standing up to you.” He began packing everything away, all the paper, everything Michael had that couldn’t be left overnight. “And you’re going home. And I’m going home. And I am coming into work tomorrow and I am not going to see you here.” He served his employer a fierce look, and Michael thought for a split second he could see the promise of physical harm in those once peaceful grass green eyes. “Am I, sir?” He closed the briefcase with a loud click, almost slamming it down, before he shoved it into Michael’s chest. He waited silently, glaring at him until Michael took it from his hands

. Michael tried to summon rage. He tried to make his blood boil, and let it blaze inside his veins. He wanted to, so badly. He wanted to scream and howl until the floor shook and the window’s shattered. He wasn’t one to be bullied or bossed around, and he hated how this usually daft boy had suddenly turned around and pushed him off of his pedestal. He felt like an alpha male threatened by a younger, potentially stronger male.

He wasn’t sure how he could unnerve a man fuelled by fury and several inches taller than him. He was a little worried about what may have happened if he tried. He could have tried threatening him with losing his job- but that kind of threat didn’t work when you were likely to be more distressed about it then the person actually losing their job was.

So instead, he stood there and took it, letting Gavin now grab his laptop bag and carefully tuck his laptop inside. “You won’t see me here tomorrow.” He agreed, standing there uselessly, his shoulders slumped. He was worryingly like a child getting scolded by a parent, and Gavin looked up when he heard the defeat in his tone.

His secretary deflated, a balloon getting burst by a pin. “I’m sorry, sir.” He muttered, and it hurt how exhausted he sounded. “But I have to.” He zipped the bag up, slowly. “You don’t know how much I hate seeing you like this. Not having a life.”

Michael thought about it. Having a life. Hearing the sound of people bustling by in a busy high street, hearing the squealing of children as they chase each other around a park. He remembered visiting home, seeing his parents and his siblings. When had he last done that? Christmas? 

Michael turned his head, staring outside the window. The signs of life remain below- the streetlights, dotted like jewels among rock, the cars driving on by. The rain of May was still falling heavily, drilling on the pavement, the roof, the windows.

He kept on staring, lost in thought and the bright colours of old memories, and he wasn’t aware that Gavin was speaking to him. His secretary’s mouth moved silently, almost in slow motion, with nothing coming out.

He was shocked back to reality by a tentative hand reaching out, softly brushing against his jaw. The palm was smooth, hesitant, and warm. The unfamiliar body heat against his felt good, and he couldn’t help but turn his face into it. The hand shook lightly, quivering as if uncertain, but it never pulled away.

“Go home.” He was told for the third time, quitter now, softer. It was soothing, like the rain from before, and Michael felt like baby being lulled to sleep. “The work will be here when you come back. And I’ll be there to help you.”

Gavin’s expression was sincere and sweet, serious and open. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and that way, it was easy to see everything he felt- and it was so easy to take it all and throw everything back in his face. 

Instead, Michael leant forward- having to rise a little on his tiptoes- and he pressed a daring kiss to Gavin’s still moving mouth.

There was second of nothing. All sound fled from Michael’s ears, and time seemed to still. His chest seemed to tighten in that one movement, and his heart almost skipped a beat or two. He felt Gavin gasp against him, but he never moved away.

After that second, Michael pulled away, settling himself back down on his feet. All the sound came rushing back, and he was almost deafened by the sound of the clock ticking as the night’s precious seconds trickled by and the sound of Gavin’s light breaths so close to him. Everything felt sharpened, clearer, much more obvious to him. He wasn’t nearly as tired anymore.

It was probably the best, albeit the most nerve wracking second of his life.

Gavin’s hand was still there, resting on his cheek. By the looks of things, he had no plans to remove it either. His employee said nothing, and made no movement. He was dreadfully still, a statue carved out of rock. But then he let out a long breath, and his eyes, once full of bewilderment and pain softened, and Gavin’s thumb stroked down the side of Michael’s jaw. 

They stared each other for an even longer moment, waging a silent war- until Michael dropped his briefcase, grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down into another, firmer kiss. Fuck it, he thought, and Gavin seemed to concur wholeheartedly.

It was a pleasant kiss, and much more active than the previous. Michael kissed him deeply, and focused on the taste of mint rather than the taste of ‘ _oh god could this be more of a stereotypical office romance_ ’. Gavin made a strangled sound, not unlike the one he would make when he’d done something terribly wrong in his own office, but it was muffled and swallowed by Michael’s mouth. He was painfully aware of the face his palms were clammy and his face felt hot- but it felt right, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else. 

Eventually, the need for oxygen parted them, and Gavin patted uselessly at Michael’s cheek. They parted with a gasp, breaking the still silence that had grown in the office. They said nothing at first, letting each other catch their breaths.

Michael was the first to speak.

“Come home with me.” He murmured directly into his ear, clinging onto him almost desperately. Both his hands were now knotted tightly in his dark, fluffy hair, and he was faintly surprised the grip wasn’t hurting him. “Stay the night.”

Gavin sucked in a breath, and his hands trailed down, from Michael’s jaw, drifting all the way down his throat and his chest to rest on his hips. Michael shuddered at the ghost like touch, and leant forward to once nip at Gavin’s ear, lightly catching the edge between his teeth. “Will either of us get any sleep if I go with you?” Gavin laughed, his voice breathy. 

“Probably not.” Michael replied truthfully, deciding to be honest and see where that got him, and he leant forward for another kiss- but Gavin pulled back, just out of his reach.

“Then it’s not happening.” He told him firmly, and Michael had a moment to feel the sharp sting of rejection and make a note to never be honest again before Gavin smiled, and gifts him with a tiny, chaste kiss just to sate him. “Not tonight, anyway.”

Michael, reassured, hummed with sudden happiness and contentment. He pressed his forehead against Gavin’s, ignoring the way his heart flipped in his ribcage, as if it were struggling to break free. He took in the sight of Gavin’s lips, wet and a little swollen, and how his untamed hair stood on end, completely dishevelled. “When, then?”

Gavin’s hands fell from his hips, albeit hesitantly, and he took a step back. Michael’s fingers relaxed in his secretary’s hair and slid free. He almost made grabby hands for him, missing his warmth, but he caught himself before he could embarrass himself anymore than he already had. He was a grown man, he reminded himself, not a child. “After you’ve gone home and slept for nine hours, sir.” Gavin told him, and the bastard had the nerve to proudly crow in victory at the exasperated expression on Michael’s face.

“I hate you.” Michael snapped, frustrated, and he didn’t mean it.

Gavin laughed, and it was a ray of beautiful sunshine in the dank darkness of the early morning. He ducked down to get his employer’s laptop bag- and Michael does not stare at his ass- and pushed it into his chest. “Hate me all you like,” He smirked as Michael grudgingly took it, and swung it over his shoulder. “But you’re going.”

With that, Gavin pet his cheek patronizingly, his smile dazzling and taunting, and he left, disappearing back into his office. He combed his hair with a hand as he walked, settling his bird nest hair back into the carefully careless fashion he wore so well. Michael grumbled, grabbing for his briefcase.

He wasn’t particularly sure what the hell just happened. Nor did he think he would ever be sure. But it was…good.

He left his office, and he didn’t see the door again until two days later, as he promised. Gavin sat perched on his own chair, typing away frantically at his computer, all bright eyed with flawless posture. Gavin’s own clock read just gone two in the morning, and the exhaustion slowly started creeping back at the reminder, seeping into his muscles. But he made himself stop in the doorway leading to the hallway and elevator before he crawled home and collapsed into his bed which he was sure was going to feel much colder and emptier than usual. “Gavin, what are you doing?”

“I’m going home in a second.” He promised, still typing away. “I’m just finishing this then I’m shutting down.” He stopped for a brief second, taking the sip of his own cup that had lay abandoned on his desk. It was probably cold, but he downed it anyway, unflinching. 

Michael arched an eyebrow at him, still standing in the doorway. The rest of the office building was dark, not a light or any movement to be seen- the others had likely left hours ago. “How can I trust you?”

Gavin grinned at that, putting his coffee aside and beginning to type once more. “You can’t.” He shrugged. “How can I trust you, knowing that you could easily go home and just continue working there?”

Michael mused on this for a long moment, until he realised there was no feasible way of making sure either got any rest. He pulled a face and gave up. “Fine.” He pretended to say sulkily. “But if you look exhausted when I come back, I’m not going to be happy with you.”

Gavin smiled. “Fair enough.” Michael muttered his goodbyes, forcing himself not to tack on ‘I’ll miss you’ and pushed the door open. He can see the elevator waiting for him at the end of the hallway, and it’s like a beacon.

“You have my number, sir.” Gavin reminded him as he left. “You can call me if you need me.” Michael turned to him before the door swung shut, and he spotted that little lopsided grin, the one he saw whenever he walked in or out of the office for the first or last time, and the one he secretly treasured.

He got soaked to the bone on the way home, and he crawled into bed with the sinking feeling that he would be spending his forced day off sniffling and sneezing, but he found that for once, he doesn’t give a damn. 


End file.
